


"no homo"

by trans_pickles



Series: Letters From Mordhaus [1]
Category: Metalocalypse
Genre: Alcohol, Drunken Confessions, Fluff without Plot, M/M, Pre-Sadness, Short One Shot, Sleepy Kisses, Tooth-Rotting Fluff, Vomiting, fight me! fight me right now!, murderface can't hold his alcohol, murderface sucks his thumb when he sleeps
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-26
Updated: 2017-02-26
Packaged: 2018-09-20 13:09:28
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 903
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9492644
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/trans_pickles/pseuds/trans_pickles
Summary: Murderface can't hold his alcohol. Toki is once again forced to take care of him.





	

**Author's Note:**

> i finished Metalocalypse and i'm having some Bad Emotions so here have some gross self-indulgent murdertooth fluff

"I tink you's had enoughs," said Toki, for what was not the first time that evening.

"I ain't had enough till I schtart scheein' double," slurred Murderface, slumped over on the couch, a bottle of whiskey in hand. They'd been hanging out, watching shitty TV, drinking shittier liquor ("whatever getsch usch drunk") and all the other band members had already retired to their rooms. Toki had refrained from drinking just that once, not wanting to deal with the hangover in the morning. But Murderface, unlike everyone else, refused to go to bed.

"Moidaface, I's serious," Toki said. "You's gonna hurts your stomachs if you keeps drinkin's like dat."

"Wasch' the big deal?" Murderface grumbled, taking another swig from the bottle. "Isch not like we got anythin' to do tomorrow."

"We's gotta records an albums..."

"Yeah, like you guysch really need me for that."

If Toki wasn't worried before, he was now. Murderface was entering that state of drunkenness where he started hating things- namely, himself.

"That's its," Toki said sternly. "I's cuttin' you offs."

Murderface feebly tried to keep his bottle, but Toki was already stronger than him, plus he had the distinct advantage of not being completely hammered. It was easy for Toki to reach out, snatch the bottle out of his friend's hand, and toss it over his shoulder, wincing slightly at the sound of shattering glass. He made a mental note to ask a Klokateer to sweep it up later on.

"Awww, Toki!" Murderface whined, pouting and crossing his arms. "Yer no fun."

"Moidaface, I's worried abouts you. You's my friends!"

That seemed to make him pause, at least for a moment.

"I ain't nobody'sch friend."

Toki stifled a sigh. It was impossible to talk to him when he got like this.

"C'mons," he said, standing up, "let's gets you to beds."

Reluctantly, Murderface mimicked Toki's movements- only to fall flat on his face the second he tried to move off the couch. Toki let out a cry, rushing to help him up, but the bassist waved him away.

"I don't need yer fuckin' help," he muttered. At least, that's what it sounded like. It was hard to make out any words when his face was smushed into the couch cushions.

"It's okays to asks for helps, Moidaface. And it don'ts looks likes you can walks on your owns."

Murderface glared at Toki for a little bit, then sighed dejectedly, holding out his arms just enough for Toki to grab him and pull him up. Toki didn't just pull him up, however - he swept him completely off his feet, lifting him up bridal-style.

 _"Toki,"_ Murderface whined. "Thisch isch scho fuckin' _gay_. I hate it."

"No homos," said Toki. Murderface opened his mouth like he was about to protest, but then scowled, settling down into Toki's embrace. If he said "no homo", it wasn't gay, and Murderface couldn't object. It wasn't gay when Murderface laid his head against Toki's chest, it wasn't gay when Toki responded by nuzzling his fluffy hair with his cheek, it wasn't gay when Murderface wrapped his arms around Toki's neck. Not gay, no sir.

Toki made his way to Murderface's room with some difficulty. Okay, a large amount of difficulty. True, Toki was by far the strongest member of Dethklok when it came to physical strength, but Murderface was almost twice Toki's weight. It didn't help that every piece of furniture in Mordhaus was liberally decorated with spikes, which were hard enough to avoid when you  _weren't_ carrying your best friend. Nevertheless, Toki managed to make it to Murderface's room without either of them being eviscerated by a coffee table.

Grunting, Toki shoved the heavy door open with his shoulder.

"Okay, Moidaface," he said, looking at his friend. "We's here-"

Murderface had already passed out, his arms still wrapped around Toki, head still leaning on his chest. His face was unnaturally relaxed and smooth, and Toki couldn't help but smile. If there was anything that he loved to see, it was Murderface being happy. Lord knows there had been a scarcity of that for the past... forever, really.

Being careful not to wake his slumbering bandmate, Toki delicately picked his way across the room, cluttered with various historical torture devices, making his way to the bed. Miraculously, the sheets were clean (Murderface had a somewhat...  _unfortunate_ habit of wetting the bed, and Toki didn't want him to sleep in soiled sheets). Toki laid Murderface down, making sure to cover him with a good number of blankets and tuck him in nice and tight. Mordhaus could get real cold at night, after all.

Toki was at the door, about to leave, when he heard a small groan.

"Nnn... Toki?"

He almost slipped turning around. Murderface's eyes were cracked open just a little bit, and he was looking right at Toki.

"Yes, Moidaface?"

"... Thanksch."

Toki could feel the smile gripping his face. "No problems, pals." Pause. "Loves you, Moidaface."

The silence from Murderface's bed was worrying, and Toki was about to regret what he'd said when he heard another, much quieter sound.

"Hmm?"

"I schaid, 'you too', asschole," Murderface mumbled, before turning his back to Toki. True, maybe it was the alcohol, maybe it was the exhaustion, but it was  _something_. And, Toki noticed, there was no disclaimer, no mention of "no homo".

"Sleeps well, Moidaface." Toki pulled the door closed as quietly as he could. "Sweets dreams."


End file.
